All Happy Transmigration Are Alike; Each Unhappy Transmigration Is Unhappy in Its Own Way.
– Anderson Tolstoy Cooper
Zane Black sensed that something was wrong.
Waking from a foggy haze, he was met with a piercing headache, as if needles had been driven straight through his skull. He couldn't think, couldn't process where he was or what had happened. The throbbing in his head drowned out all coherent thought, but even through the confusion, one thing became clear—this wasn't his bed.
What was going on?
The room felt oppressively small, even tinier than the cramped apartment he rented back home. A dim, flickering light teased his half-shut eyelids, and somewhere behind him, the steady drip of water played a haunting rhythm. Voices, hushed and urgent, murmured nearby.
"He's really dead, Annie. You went too far!"
A woman's voice, sharp with accusation.
"I didn't mean to! How was I supposed to know his body was that fragile? Besides, I barely did anything!"
The woman, called Annie, spoke in a somewhat flustered tone.
"Stop talking. We should be thinking about how to explain this to Michelle."
"Michelle... no! What should we do? Michelle will definitely kill us!"
"FXXX,Don't drag me into this. It's all your fault, you're the one who killed him, it has nothing to do with me..."
The conversation continued, noisy and stirring up chaos in Zane's mind along with the headache. However, after a moment of adjustment, he gradually got used to the pain and regained his basic ability to observe and judge.
He forcefully opened his eyes.
t was a narrow room, like the basement of some suspense movie. The surroundings were pitch black, with the torches on the walls being the only source of light. Slimy moss grew in the corners and on the ceiling, exuding a heavy dampness that made the atmosphere uncomfortable.
Zane Black tried to move his body.
He immediately realized that he was tied to a chair, his hands bound behind his back with rough hemp rope, causing a sharp pain.
Not only that, he also discovered that his body felt unusually weak.
Weak to the point of being unfamiliar.
"What should I do... Michelle... Oh my god, she's—she's here!"
Click. Clack. Click.
High heels!
The slow and steady sound of high heels interrupted their conversation, as well as Zane's weak struggles.
In the dim firelight, a blurry figure gradually emerged.
It was a woman wrapped in a large robe, the hood covering her face, making it impossible to see her features. The dark blue robe concealed her completely, with no hint of vulnerability. Even if it was a mannequin inside, no one would have been able to tell.
The only reason Zane knew she was a woman was because of the earlier high heel sound and the name "Michelle."
Though still in a state of confusion, instinct told Zane that he should play dead.
So, taking advantage of the moment when no one was paying attention to him, he relaxed his body, slumped in the chair, and remained motionless.
He kept his eyes tightly closed, ears alert, listening for any developments.
"Michelle, I—"Annie's voice sounded trembling with fear.
"Wake him up."
"I... I just—"
Annie hesitated before speaking, as if carefully choosing her words, but was suddenly interrupted.
"It's all Annie's fault!" Another woman suddenly shouted, her voice sharp and causing Zane's head to spin. "Michelle, it's all Annie's fault. She's the one who killed him, it has nothing to do with me!"
An awkward silence.
"Michelle, I..." Annie tried to explain.
"He's not dead," Michelle interrupted her again.
Zane couldn't help but freeze, his breath catching.
"What?"
"He's not dead!" Michelle's voice grew tinged with impatience. "Wake him up."
"Ah, yes, yes…"
Zane sat still with his eyes closed, suddenly struck by a cold wave that made him shiver uncontrollably. His clothes clung to his skin, damp and sticky, uncomfortable in every sense. The sensation made him feel nauseous.
The woman named Annie had doused him with cold water.
Realizing he couldn't keep up the act, Zane reluctantly opened his eyes.
"He's not dead!"
One of the women gasped, and at last, Zane's vision cleared.
There were three figures in the room. The two women, like Michelle, were cloaked in identical dark blue robes, their hoods concealing their faces, adding an eerie, almost cinematic quality to the scene.
The three robed figures stood around Zane, resembling participants in some sinister, ritualistic ceremony.
Zane felt a chill running down his spine.
"You two can go rest now," Michelle ordered.
The two women nodded and left, perhaps to discuss the earlier incident for a while.
Zane sensed Michelle's gaze return to him, like a venomous snake eyeing its prey. It made him feel uncomfortable, but there was nothing he could do. In his current situation, he could only lower his gaze and pretend he hadn't noticed anything.
Michelle remained silent, and the two of them stood in a tense standoff.
The brief moment seemed to stretch on endlessly.
At last, Michelle spoke.
"What's the way to open the vault?"
Zane lifted his head. "I don't know."
"Lord Risser," Michelle said, her tone devoid of surprise. "Resistance is pointless. You can return to the capital and continue being the noble genius you are, or you can rot in the belly of a rat. The choice is yours, and I do hope you make the right decision."
"I'm not Lord Risser. You've got the wrong person," Zane protested.
"Lord Risser," Michelle replied, speaking slowly, yet with an unmistakable sense of pressure, "my patience is limited. Or perhaps, you're not satisfied with the service you've received so far? Should I bring Annie back to assist you further?"
"..."
Zane wanted to cry but had no tears. Sister, I really don't know anything!
Having been awake for a while now, he was starting to piece things together.
Before all of this, late at night, he had been hunched over a desk, preparing the speech his boss needed for the next day. He had been working overtime for half a month, exhausted both physically and mentally. Too tired to keep his eyes open, he had fallen asleep in front of his computer. And in his dream, he saw his middle-aged boss with underwear on his head, pointing at Zane and shouting, "Moon Prism Power, Make Up!"
Then his head had rung with a loud buzz.
When he woke up, he was already in this basement.
It was possible these women had lost their minds, mistaken him for some Lord Risser, and kidnapped him. It was also possible that the nightmare had been so intense it caused significant physical and mental harm, leading to hallucinations.
However...
The moment he opened his mouth, Zane realized he wasn't speaking English anymore, but something resembling Romance languages.
Zane wasn't a fool. He was an ordinary person living an ordinary life with extraordinary dreams—he had read plenty of web novels. So, when he realized something was wrong, his mind quickly connected the dots, and he came to a conclusion.
He had transmigrated.
For some unknown reason, he had swapped places with someone named Lord Risser, taking over their body. And it just so happened that this Lord Risser had been unfortunate enough to be kidnapped by a group of crazy women and subjected to some non-pleasurable torture.
Now, it was his turn to be tortured.
Zane sighed, silently mourning the wages he had lost over the past two weeks—his payroll had been delayed after the financial staff fell while skiing down the mountain, resulting in an anal prolapse.
He must be the unluckiest transmigrator ever.
"For the Risser family, that vault is nothing but a single grain of rice in a vast granary. The treasures inside, you already have countless of them. Why would you risk your precious life for something so trivial?"
Michelle, perhaps thinking Zane's sigh indicated some wavering, began to take a more coaxing approach.
Zane lifted his head, staring into the darkness beneath her hood, and spoke each word slowly, firmly:
"I... don't... know!"
He believed his eyes must have been as sincere as a doe's.
But Michelle didn't believe him.
"I'm sorry, Lord Risser," Michelle's voice remained cold throughout, but this time Zane detected a faint trace of murderous intent in her tone. "I think perhaps you're starting to miss Lady Annie."
Zane shuddered.
He had no idea what these crazy women had done to the original owner of this body, and frankly, he didn't want to know. Why? Because the original owner had been killed by them!
The truth was undeniable: Zane couldn't afford to doubt the lengths these madwomen might go to in their pursuit of answers.
As Michelle began to turn away, Zane's voice broke through the tense silence:
"I… I can't tell you. Not yet."
He had no other option. With the cards stacked against him, he had to play his hand carefully. Whatever, dying here wasn't on his agenda.
"Why?"
Michelle didn't look back. She froze mid-step, her back still turned toward him, her voice cutting through the air like a blade of ice.
"If I tell you and you don't keep your word, I'm dead either way," Zane said, forcing a calmness he didn't feel as he scrambled for inspiration from every thriller he'd ever read or watched. "I'll tell you how to open the vault—but only if you guarantee my safety."
A soft chuckle came from under Michelle's hood.
The tension in the room eased slightly, and Zane let out a faint breath of relief.
"You're clever," Michelle said as she turned back to face him. "But I never planned to let you go. To avoid being hunted by the Risser family, once I get what I want, I'll kill you immediately, chop you into mincemeat, and toss you into the sewer to feed the rats. Not a trace will remain."
Zane wished he could swallow his words back down.
"…Then I won't tell you."
"If you refuse, we'll torture you until you can't bear it anymore and spill everything," Michelle said, her voice dripping with sadistic glee. "You could choose a painless death—it's far better than the alternative."
"…"
Just my luck!
At this point, Zane wanted nothing more than to drag the real Lord Risser's soul out of wherever it was, shake him by the neck, and demand he come back so Zane could get out of this insane world.
Damn it, I'm just a side character passing by!
"Foolish," Michelle muttered when Zane stayed silent. She shook her head and turned to leave, likely to find another way to make him talk.
In his panic, a thought suddenly flashed through Zane's mind.
"Wait!"
Michelle didn't seem to hear him, her steps steady and unhurried.
Desperate, Zane used all the strength he had to shout:
"The Risser family vault can only be opened by someone with the Risser bloodline! If you kill me, you'll never get it, not in your entire life!"
Michelle finally stopped. Her high heels tapped rhythmically as she walked back toward him.
Zane let out a long-held breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
The vault requires the family's bloodline to open—the most clichéd plot device from countless novels. And yet, somehow, it had become his only lifeline.
There was a brief silence before Michelle suddenly spoke:
"You're not a true Risser bloodline."
What?!
Zane's heart skipped a beat, and his hands, tied behind his back, instinctively clenched into fists.
"To the Risser family, you're just an outsider by marriage," Michelle continued, her tone laced with contempt. "Your aunt married into the Risser family, and you merely rode her coattails to gain the name Risser. You carry none of the family's blood. The so-called 'bloodline' required to open the vault? Even you can't do it."
"…"
So this so-called "Lord Risser" was just a nobody in a powerful family?
The headache that had been nagging at Zane grew sharper, as if mocking his predicament.
He felt utterly hopeless. This, right here, was the definition of shooting yourself in the foot, of digging your own grave. He'd just experienced it firsthand in spectacular fashion.
There might have been other paths to survival, but he'd managed to block every single one of them himself.
Now what?
His transmigration journey had barely lasted half an hour—was this it? Game over already?
Michelle let out a cold laugh before continuing, "Did you really think I wouldn't investigate you before abducting you…"
"Your probing is pointless!" Zane suddenly cut her off, his voice sharp and commanding, as though he'd become a completely different person. "I am part of the Risser family. I carry the purest bloodline of House Risser. Spinning this nonsense to test me—what exactly are you trying to prove?"
"You…"
Zane pressed on, relentless. "If you're worried I'm stalling for time, then you're the one bluffing. Abducting a noble—you must be panicking inside, aren't you? The family's search party is closing in. The longer you delay, the closer you edge toward your own demise."
Michelle fell silent, as if the hooded figure before him had truly turned into an inanimate mannequin.
Zane chuckled, low and mocking.
He'd gambled—and won!
If I were just some in-law, how could I know about the family vault? If he were truly a nobody, why would Michelle and her group go to such lengths to abduct him?
With that realization, Zane quickly pieced it together. She wasn't revealing the truth—she was trying to get him to reveal it.
Michelle must have realized something was off with Zane's identity as "Lord Risser," so she fabricated the story of him being an outsider to test him. If he had fallen for it, it would have been the end for him—she would discover that he wasn't the true Risser, and he'd have no further use to her.
But luckily, Zane remained calm. Michelle's hastily constructed backstory had holes big enough to drive a truck through.
This body he had taken over? It was genuine Risser bloodline!
Zane turned the tables on her, using her own tricks to keep the mysterious woman on edge.
"Miss Michelle, if you truly want to open the vault, I think you'd better act quickly." Zane pressed, cruelly mocking her, "The Risser family isn't so easy to handle."
There was silence, a long, drawn-out silence.
"...You win."
Zane raised an eyebrow in playful amusement.
Michelle's words came out through clenched teeth: "I'll take you to the vault. You'll open the door for me. We'll keep our distance when you're opening it. Once the door is open, we won't be watching you. You'll have the chance to escape."
Hearing that, Zane finally allowed a smirk to form on his face.
"Deal."
Whew…
The heavy weight pressing on Zane's chest finally lifted, and he saw a glimmer of hope.
In his moment of relief, he couldn't help but reflect on how truly unlucky he was as a traveler.
While others could rely on magical abilities or "golden fingers" to survive, all he had was his own wits.
But now wasn't the time to relax.
Since the lie had already been spun, he had to keep it going. This insane woman would still have to take him to the vault, and he needed to find the opportunity to escape. Otherwise, if the lie fell apart, it would be the same dead end.
The game had only just begun.
Zane refocused on Michelle.
She seemed thoroughly displeased with him. Taking a few steps away, Michelle stomped her high heels with extra force. She called to her "little underlings" in the dark hallway:
"Sally, Annie, it's time to move!"
It seemed she was planning to take Zane and her subordinates to the vault's location.
However...
The empty hallway echoed with silence, and Zane couldn't help but suppress a smirk.
Oh?
It seemed something had gone wrong. He quickly masked his expression, hoping Michelle didn't notice his brief moment of gloating.
"Shally? Annie?"
Michelle raised her voice, the calmness in her tone momentarily wavering.
Finally, a voice came from the shadows:
"Michelle, something's wrong!"
Despite the alarming news, Michelle appeared somewhat relieved.
A figure draped in a hooded robe quickly emerged from the darkness.
"The people from the Risse family are almost here! Michelle, this is bad!"
Hearing this, Zane's spirits lifted, but soon, anxiety crept back in. How was he supposed to deal with these unknown relatives?
On the other hand, if the Risse family caught up to them, Zane doubted Michelle would keep her word and let him live.
Headache.
Michelle, however, remained unfazed. She asked calmly, "Annie, where's Shally?"
"I... I don't know..." Annie stammered.
"Annie, tell me, where's Shally?"
Annie's voice wavered, and Zane could tell she was extremely nervous.
"Shally is gone... I... I'm not sure. She said she was going to check around, and then she just disappeared. I think... I think she must have spotted someone from the Risse family and ran off by herself! Or... maybe she's already been captured by them!"
Michelle fell silent.
Annie stood across from her, her hooded robe barely concealing her panic.
"Michelle, we need to leave. If we wait any longer, we'll definitely get caught!"
But Michelle remained silent.
The silence stretched on, and Annie's anxiety grew, her urgency beginning to turn awkward. She was like a stand-up comedian trying to crack jokes while her partner refused to respond. One minute, two minutes… The tension in the room became unbearable. Her face began to show signs of cracking under the weight of it all.
It was Zane who finally broke the silence.
His voice stretched out with a feigned surprise, almost mocking, and it had the effect of making everyone in the room uneasy.
"Annie… did you kill Shally?"